Waltz Up To Me
by Asher
Summary: Lake Victoria Academy-elite, stressful, anxiety-provoking. Faced with a point system ruled by DPD, what is a cadet as neurotic as Noin supposed to do with a roomate as...difficult as Zechs, the mooning fanatic and Trowa, his willing accomplice?
1. He's Probably Going To

**W A L T Z U P T O M E**   
  


- - - 

**he's probably going to**

- - -  


Dammit. Why did things like these always have to happen to me? I turned into a pile of unreciprocated emotions whenever he walked into the room. Walked around base. Asked me for help in his fine arts classes. Dangit. 

I was never late for class. Right now, even as I sat writhing in boredom and praying to god to speed up time, I was obediently taking notes about pre and post-depression era photography. And he hadn't even bothered to show up. 

_*Probably going to waltz up to me and ask for copies of these notes. Jerk.*_

I was seventeen this year. One more year of training hard in the Academy and if I did well enough I might be able to join Oz as a sergeant major or a warrant officer. 

_*And even then, he might be accepted as a Lieutenant and one-up me again*_

"Private Noin?" 

And what if he became a Captain before me? What then? He'd smile modestly and never **once** credit any help I had given him. Man that would bite my ass--- 

"PRIVATE NOIN!!!" Captain Katigiri stood next to me, pert, elegant features flustered and his EuroJapanese poise thrown to the wind. 

"Yes, sir?" 

He rubbed away the frown on his forehead with his right hand. "Private, what have you been doing all class period? You're the only student left in this classroom. Did you not hear me calling your name for the last two minutes?" 

I must have looked like a boiled lobster as I picked up my textbooks and notes and stuffed them into my bookbag. 

Captain Katigiri went back to his desk and scribbled some illegible message onto a pass, ushering me out of the class in a hurry. "If you're late for Lt. Colonel Khushrenada's class you're going to be punished." He leaned into his chair. "I would run, if I were you." 

I ran towards the door. "Thanks. But it's not like he's ever there." 

As I was running down the hall, regulation shoes polished and clomping noisily on the tile as I weaved my way through crowds of students, all I heard were conversations about Treize Khushrenada's return from Romefeller delegations. 

_*Oh shit.*_

- - - 

First thing I see when I walk into the room. 

Zechs Merquise sitting atop the usually empty professor or instructor's metal desk, knee-high boots polished expertly, white regulation breeches pressed and newly laundered. White, collared shirt also pressed and his completely non-regulation hair pulled back with a black hair tie. 

_*MY hair tie*_

Not only did Zechs never attend Intelligence & Strategy class, but he NEVER bothered to tie back his hair and polish his boots and press his uniform as he was supposed to. 

Just as I arrived at my seat, the bell rang and I was left a bit out of breath from having had to run across almost the entire base. Zechs smiled at my disheveled hair and pointed to my finger, indicating the missing black band. 

He slid off the desk in a smooth gesture, practically waltzing to his own rarely occupied seat that rested beside mine. 

As he brushed past me he said, "Guess you won't have to take notes for me now, Noin. Thanks for the band, by the way." 

As was usual, everyone took out their notebooks and pens, fully expecting another day of study hall and talking to friends for ninety minutes. 

Zechs just sat in his seat. No pen, no notebook, just his black-book bag, the twin of my own, resting on the back of his seat. Empty. 

"Hey, you look flushed. Don't tell me you were late for class, Noin." 

I probably blushed as I answered him. "Well, Katigiri actually yelled at me to get out of his room." I held my crumbled pass out to him. "But he wrote me an excuse just in case I didn't make it." 

Zechs took the white slip of paper and looked it over, blue eyes amused. "Did you even bother to read this?" he laughed. 

"Why? I can't even read his handwriting. He has a doctor's signature. Can't tell scribbles apart from anything else." 

He gave me one of his wide smiles and threw the pass back at me. "It isn't an excuse, you moron. It says to have Lt. Colonel Khushrenada sign this and verify if you were late or not. Which means, that if you HAD been late and he'd actually been here to see it, you would have been deducted 10 points and I would be ahead of you by four." 

I stared at him, open mouthed and probably looking like a newly gutted fish. "How can you read that?" 

He rested his chin in his open palms, yawning. "Treize writes like that sometimes." He said simply. 

_*Great. Not only had he almost caught up with me as top of the class without trying but he's friends with Lt. Colonel Khushrenada? Wait a minute---*_

"Treize? You call him Treize!?" 

"My, what a break of proper military etiquette. I believe I should do something about this, shouldn't I?" A dry, aristocratic voice broke through all the talk, instantly silencing everyone and leaving my high-strung babbling extremely audible and easy to pick out. "Good afternoon class. As you probably know I am Lt. Colonel Khushrenada. I apologize for not having been here for the first three quarters..." the smile he'd acquired from hearing my outraged cry towards Zechs dropped and he turned to the whiteboard. "...but I believe that this class is a waste of your time, but even more importantly," he turned to face us again, "an utter waste of mine." 

I turned back to Zechs as I fought internally to get rid of my full facial blush and to keep myself from gaping at Colonel Khushrenada. He holding his head up in his left hand, elbow propped on the table and staring out of the window. 

_*What the hell is he DOING?! He never comes to class and the day he does, he's staring outside the window and not even paying attention to what Colonel Treize is saying! Arrogant.*_

"Strategy is not something that can be learned. Strategy has to do with your own intelligence, perception and elegance of thought." Colonel Khushrenada stood in front of the class, half-cape resting on the back of a chair, dark-blue uniform perfectly tailored and smoothed over his tall body. 

_*Why can't I be poised like that? And what the hell is that idiot doing? Zechs, you're going to be reprimanded and then I'll be sixteen points ahead of you.*_

The rest of the class was spent with the Colonel eloquently discussing various ill-used tactics and famous strategies. As dismissal bell announced the end of the day, he gave us our only assignment for the rest of the year. 

"I want you to express yourselves with eloquence, with poise. Don't come to class anymore. Spend this time conducting yourselves with dignity and the last day of class you'll turn into to me a paper dictating what you have discovered from behaving in such a manner. I assure you all that if you have conducted yourselves in the manner of gentlepersons, you will have learned everything you need to know about Strategy and Intelligence. Until then." He swept his cape into his arms and slipped out of the room before the class had a chance to ask questions or stampede after him. 

_*Oh shit. I'm **SCREWED!***_

I took my time, placing my notebook into my bag, waiting for Zechs to at least move from his slumped position on his desk. 

"Zechs?" 

No answer. 

"Zechs?" 

Again, no answer. 

I circled around my desk and poked him. 

_*The first and only lecture we'll ever receive from Colonel Khushrenada and you fell **ASLEEP**?*_

He made no motion to move and I sighed, resigned to forever be in second place behind a platinum-haired sloth. 

I turned to the exit but as my hair fell into my face, I remembered that he'd taken my hair tie. I slipped his hair from beneath his arm and quickly yanked it out. 

_*Victory*_

Turning once again to make my get-away, I felt a painfully cool hand gripping my book-bag. 

"You woke me up." 

"Well, the day is over Zechs." I sighed. "I thought you'd at least want to actually try doing something productive tonight." 

He released my bag, standing up and rubbing the sleep away from his face. "Why would I want to do that?" he snorted, hair flailing around his face lovingly. "And become you?" He smirked. "I'm going out. Don't lock the door." 

That stopped me in mid-walk. "You're going out?" 

He pushed his hair behind his ear. "Yes. Is this a problem, Private Noin?" 

"Curfew's at eleven, Zechs." 

He snorted again and rolled his eyes at me, walking out the door ahead of me and leaving me standing stupidly in the hall, waist-length hair still loose and my coveted hair-tie left forgotten in my tightly fisted hand. 

_*Once again I've been left to be the responsible one. Damn.*_

- - - 


	2. Fairytales Tell Lies

**W A L T Z U P T O M E**   


  
- - - 

**fairytales tell lies**

- - - 

_**Lake Victoria, the most elite military academy on the Earth and the Colonies has two campuses, one in England and one in Africa. Both are named Lake Victoria and both are next to OZ bases. **_

All tryout cadets begin a one month trial period at Lake Victoria England and if they pass are transferred over to Lake Victoria Africa for three years of rigid training and study. The pass rate is a staggeringly low 8% and only thirty students from the graduating class are accepted into OZ. After that there is a three month trial period in which twenty five of those students are either delegated to uselesss menial tasks within the organization or discharged from OZ. The remaining five become actual OZ members and are given their signia and offical ID. 

At Lake Victoria position and rank is based on points. Points are receieved through assignments, test markings, procedure and through etiquette. Each cadet is paired up with someone for three years and to ensure even higher levels of paranoia and anxiety, points are awarded or demerited in accordance to how well one's own roomate does. Daily room checks, nightly inspections to make sure curfews aren't broken...Even test scores are looked at to make sure that a roomate is doing their best to provide their partner assistance and make sure that they maintain and strive for the highest of excellence and rank...so why the hell does the top cadet get stuck with such a lazy bastard for a roomate instead of getting someone as perfect and intelligent and STOIC as Heero Yuy!?... 

I stopped typing. This essay was getting no where. It was turning into another journal entry instead of staying on task. How the hell was I supposed to work on something about eloquence and elegance and all of that when I don't have any of it? God! Why did I have to get stuck with _him_ as a roomate! Why couldn't I have been lucky enough to get Heero Yuy as a roomate? Heero Yuy the perfect roomate. Currently fourth in rank and in the past two years had not gotten a single demerit. Not one. 

But _no_. I sighed, pulling my hair back and settling further into the chair. Concentrate, Noin. You can do this. Alright...so _elegance_... 

_**Points are distributed in various ways. First there are Dual Points which are awarded in pairs. They are awarded or demerited based on the appearance, actions and everything else that is connected with having a roomate. The morning room checks are one example of this as well as conduct. Lake Victoria has very strict regulations regarding Cadet conduct. The basics of proper etiquette and gentlemanly behavior are demanded and the most severe penalties are given out to sexual misconduct...**_

I stopped typing again. 

_*'Sexual Misconduct'? Yeah like going out mooning just to PISS ME OFF!*_

DPD. Dual Point Demerit. Dual points were so rarely awarded that the system was just referred to as one of demerit. I hate DPD. Never in all my time at the Academy had I ever been awarded Dual points. I clenched by hand around my coffee mug, glancing at the clock on Zechs' empty desk. 11:16. A time when all good second years should already be in bed or at least locked away in their rooms. 

_*And so why isn't that bastard in yet?*_

_**Points are also awarded in various classes. The Academics classes are awarded points only for final exams, tests and quizzes. Fine Art classes, while offered at Lake Victoria are not subject to the point system because they are not among the requirements, but merely entertainment. Training classes are the most rigorous point-wise. Attendance, performance and improvement in all skills along with examinations and the semesterly Mentals.**_

Fine Arts were the _only_ damn classes Zechs ever went to on a regular basis. I think the reason for this was because they weren't required. He liked photography and so he went to class. But he almost _never_ showed up for any Academic classes. Never. He showed up to take the tests and that was the extent of his dedication. As for Training classes, he usually went to those, but every once in a while he'd wake up late and just not show up. Because Lake Victoria, being a military academy had adopted some stupid rules, one of which was that demerits were awarded for tardiness but not absences. So guess what some people did when they were late? People like Zechs and goddamned Trowa Barton, his accomplice? A twitch started on the corner of my left eyebrow. Just the thought of how Trowa Barton was not only Heero Yuy's roomate, but that he did everything Zechs did and managed not to get caught...I shook my head. One of these days my head would explode from all of this crap I have to go through. 

I glanced at the clock again. 11:20. And we had fencing first thing tomorrow morning. I saved my files and shut down the computer. I tiptoed over to the door and opened the small peek slot. No sign of that lazy bastard yet. 

_*Zechs Merquise, you better show up before sun up or I'm going through all of your underwear and starching it.*_

- - - 

I woke up to the sound of someone pounding softly on the door in what I groggily recognized as Morse Code. I sat up, rubbing my eyey and turned back to the clock. 3:42. It was almost four in the morning and someone was outside my door tapping...i sighed a disgusted sigh and focused on what they were tapping out. 

**N-O-I-N O-P-E-N T-H-E D-O-O-R. I-T-S M-E, Y-O-U-R L-O-V-E-L-Y R-O-O-O-M-A-T-E, W-H-O Y-O-U W-O-R-S-H-I-P.**

What the hell? I tossed off my blanket walking over to the door. I kneeled down, putting my ear to it. I could hear him breathing on the other side. Dammit. Might as well killed himself so I could get the room to myself. I tapped back to him. 

**G-E-T L-O-S-T M-E-R-Q-U-I-S-E. N-A-R-C-I-S-S-U-S. I T-O-L-D Y-O-U N-O-T T-O B-E L-A-T-E. N-O-W Y-O-U C-A-N S-T-A-Y O-U-T T-H-E-R-E F-O-R A-L-L I C-A-R-E. O-N-C-E T-H-E-Y C-A-T-C-H Y-O-U O-U-T P-A-S-T C-U-R-F-E-W Y-O-U-L-L B-E D-O-W-N 1-5-0 P-O-I-N-T-S A-N-D I-L-L B-E U-P B-Y 1-3-4.**

I heard him laughing softly on the other side. 

**D-O-N-T S-E-N-D M-E L-O-N-G M-E-S-S-A-G-E-S! I-M D-R-U-N-K H-E-R-E. A-N-D Y-O-U M-U-S-T B-E T-O-O I-F Y-O-U D-O-N-T R-E-M-E-M-B-E-R T-H-A-T I-F T-H-E-Y C-A-T-C-H M-E O-U-T H-E-R-E D-P-D W-I-L-L M-A-K-E S-U-R-E Y-O-U-R-E D-O-W-N 1-5-0 T-O-O. L-O-V-E A-N-D K-I-S-S-E-S, Z-E-C-H-S.**

_*Shit, I'd forgotten about that. I cry on the **INSIDE!***_

I got up, very much hating the fact that I was opening the door for him. Hating the fact that as I opened the door, instead of being disgusted and seeing the vomit I expected clinging off of him...he looked good. He was sprawled against the side of the door, still wearing his unform, except for his shirt was open all the way so that you could see the thin white undershirt he always wore. He looked up at me with his hair loose and spread all around his face and smiled. 

"You look good wearing my pajamas." He frowned. "Although your face kinda...you slept on my bunk again, didn't you?" 

I scowled at him, kicking him in the thigh. "These aren't yours and I was sleeping on my own bunk." I looked out into the hallway. "And hurry up and get in before you get up both caught." 

He slowly got up, staggering a bit on the door. "Well, help me up then roomie." He held out an arm and I shook my head, taking it and draping it behind by neck to help him to his bunk. 

_*'Roomie'? Don't call me roomie, you jerk. Drunken idiot.*_

He looked up at the top bunk, eyeing the tiny ladder used to get up there, stared at my already warm and unmade bed and said. "How about switching for the night?" 

I snorted. "No way, Merquise. You chose top bunk and you're staying with it. I'm not switching just so you can have it any easier than you already have it." 

He sat on the edge of my bed. "Fine, if you aren't willing to switch then we're just going to share." And with that he lay down all the way and rolled towards the wall. Dragging the covers up he mumbled, "I don't care if you sleep here, but don't hog covers." 

I gaped at him. Zechs Merquise was in my bed. In _my bed_. Damn. I scratched my head. Well, his bunk had the same covers, same pillow, same everything...but...if I went up there I'd just have to make two beds instead of one. ARGH! Dammit! 

_*I swear to god and everything holy in this world that if he so much as mentions this to Trowa I'll kill him*_

I pushed him aside, pulling on the covers. "Fine. You can sleep here, but take off your boots first." 

"Too tired. Can't. You do it." Came the montone response. 

"What? Do I look like your maid?" 

"Then deal with it." 

I would not be able to sleep with him wearing boots. What if he kicks in the night? I resigned myself and once again got out of bed and tugged his boots off. I tossed them under the bed and stood in front of him. "Zechs." 

No response. 

"Zechs!" 

"What already? Noin, I want to go to sleep. Leave me alone." 

_*Leave **YOU** alone? What about ME? Huh? What about me and all the crap I have to go through because of you and your partying and your mooning and your...stuff?*_

"Your belt. Give it to me." 

He laughed. "Are you trying to put the moves on me?" 

I grit my teeth in annoyance. "No. Now give it to me." I held a hand out and watched as he slowly turned, moved around beneath the covers and his arm poked through with his belt in hand. "Thank you." 

"Want my pants, too?" He sneered. "Are you done bothering me now?" 

I slipped back into bed. "Bothering _**you**_? You're the one--oh, whatever." 

He sighed and turned over, facing me so that I could feel his breath on my neck. "Alright, alright. Thanks for letting me in. I promise I won't vomit all over you, is that good enough?" 

I turned so that I could look at him and licked my lips. "Stop stealing my hair ties." 

He smiled with his eyes already closed. "I'm drunk, remember? I can't make promises under the influence." 

Sure, sure. Drunk only when it suits you. Asshole. 

- - - 

  
this fic is for crary, who rocks. 

here's hopingthe awesomeness is able to continue.   


feedback very much desired. if you like this fic, let me know! i don't promise automatic chapters, but with enough encouragement i always try to write more! ^_^ 


	3. Hey, Sure I Like You Why Not?

**WALTZ UP TO ME**   


- - - 

**hey, sure i like you. why not?**

- - - 

+ + + denotes a POV change 

- - - 

_*Fencing at seven in the morning...god, this sucks.*_

Today the first class we had was fencing. And just my goddamned luck that Zechs was _randomly_ selected as my warm-up partner. I must be cursed. I must have done something horrible in a past life or something to deserve all of this. I must have done human sacrifice or maybe some higher ups have found a reason to hate me. My life sucks! 

I slipped on my fencing casket, finished linking together the loophole buttons on my boots and slipped my fencing sword out of its protective sheath. Although we were all required to use the three types of fencing swords, foil, épée, and saber, during the first ten minutes of class we were allowed to warm up and parry with each other with whatever type of sword we favored. I myself liked épée the best. The sword is much heavier than the other two and the French grip that my personal sword has is more comfortable than the others. And not to mention that in competition, épée is vastly more aggressive and doesn't adhere to the stupid right of way rules that the other two forms have. 

_*Which is good, because that damn narcissist **always** cries 'foul' because I can't remember all of the stupid right of way crap.*_

I stepped up onto the strip and cringed as Zechs finished snapping his mask in place. He was smirking at me, I could feel it. I glanced at his sword and a small twitch started at my right eyebrow. 

He was using a saber sword. 

"I'm using épée. You can't use saber while I'm using épée. Go change it." 

He swung the saber around, making it slice the air in quick, effortless movements. "Why? I don't care if you're using that as long as we parry by right of way." 

I snorted, bypassed the standard beginning stance and crouched, knees slightly bent. I raised my arm, so that my sword pointed straight at him as it was supposed to and said, "You're not going to beat me with that right of way crap, Merquise. Get ready to die, DPD boy." 

He laughed and crouched, pointing his own sword at me. "All right, have it your way. But remember, this isn't épée. _En garde_." 

I stepped forward first and lunged. He moved and my sword tapped him on the leg. 

_*First touch, yeah baby.*_

He didn't step back into position and I let my arms drop as I stood, sword limp in my hand. "Why aren't you back in position? That was first touch, idiot." 

His fleché caught me off guard as his own sword touched me in the middle of the chest. "You're dead." 

I gaped at him, behind my mask. "What the hell? **I** got first touch. What are you doing?" I scowled. "That doesn't count." 

"In saber, only the area above the hips is valid. You tapped me in the leg, so that isn't valid at all. Which means, that you're dead and I win first round." 

_*I HATE MY LIFE*_

I was about to start arguing again, but instead I just stepped back into position. "Fine, fine. Cheating bastard." 

This time he lunged first. I fended him off and we went back and forth on the matt for about a minute until--- 

"Touch. You're dead." 

And I stepped back into position and this time--- 

"Touch. You're dead." 

And I stepped back into position _again_--- 

"Touch. You're dead." 

And I--- 

"Touch, _**AGAIN**_, Noin. Come on, you're deaaad! Stop moving!" 

"Alright, one more, one more! I'll kill you this time!" 

He took off his mask and redid his ponytail. "We've tired this before, Noin. You can't kill me. It's impossible. I **AM** fencing GOD." He put a hand on his hip, placing the saber tip down and pretended to lean on it. 

"ARGH!" I took threw off my mask. "I _hate_ saber!" 

Now I could see the smirk. I could see the upward curve of his lips, I could even see his teeth. Mocking me. He was _mocking_ me. "You only hate it because you're no good at it." 

I sat down on the edge of the mat and resolved myself to three minutes of outward pouting and inner bitching. "Saber is fencing for old rich bastards who don't want to get off their pure-bred horses with the ugly sheared manes. Épée is what separates the real fencers from the posers." I ranted. 

I could hear the sound of him padding off the mat. "Are you going to just sit there and complain or will you finish helping me with warm-ups?" 

_*Go die, Merquise. Just go kill yourself. Eat at some fancy restaurant and just DIE.*_

"Do you want me to beat him for you?" 

The voice caught me unaware. The edge of it lined with a subtle hint of an accent. I admit that I've thought about that voice more than necessary, that I've thought about the person who it belongs to much more than I should. But I'm stupid like that, remember? 

I looked up, abruptly cutting off my bitching-session after only two minutes. It was Trowa. Staring down at me with this look of...what? Amusement? Sympathy? He was smiling at me and my heart swelled because Trowa was the second best fencer at Lake Victoria. He could beat Zechs. There was still a chance. This could happen! Yeah. 

_*Don't worry, Zechs...I'll get the bandages ready for you.*_

"Yes, please." I said and I think that my voice might have come out much more supplicant and whiny than I'd wanted, but whatever worked. 

Trowa stepped onto the mat, slipped on his mask and signaled to Zechs that he wanted to bout by pointing at him with his sword. 

_*Which just proves that Trowa's better than you, Zechs. He's using épée. That's like the equivalent of him curing cancer or something. Man, he's **so** much better than you!*_

Zechs shrugged and put his mask back on, but not before he sent me this nasty look. Oh well, you can't make everyone happy with you when all you really want is to see some blood spilled. 

+ + + 

Trowa stepped onto the mat, determined to beat Zechs. It wasn't just that he'd told Noin he would do it, but...well, actually, that was exactly why he needed to win. 

He liked Noin. Sure, she was a bit flaky sometimes and anal retentive, but that was all mainly due to Zechs. And he _was_ to blame for her getting even worse because everything Zechs Merquise did in life was somehow involved in making Noin suffer. 

So what better way than to get in favor with a girl who's only goal in life was to somehow destroy her roommate, than to defeat him at his favorite game? 

Zechs was staring at him as if to say _'What the hell are you doing, Barton? Out of your mind?'_

He would never beat him. Zechs was top fencer. He was arrogant enough to have memorized all of the rules. To have studied with paid professionals. Damn, he wasn't going to pull it off, unless he cheated. Damn. 

He glanced back at Noin who was giving him an enthusiastic thumbs-up as she stuck her tongue out at Zechs and tucked away his ego and stepped towards his best friend. 

"Trowa, what are you doing? We're fencing here." 

"You have to let me win." He whispered as softly as he could. 

"Fuck that! I'm not _letting_ you win!" Zechs hissed. 

"Come on, Zechs. I'm doing it for Noin. She's your roommate, man." 

"Christ, Trowa. You're telling me that you want me to lose just so you can impress my IDIOT ROOMMATE?" He yelled out. 

Trowa motioned quickly for him to shut up. "You know I like her. This'll make her happy. Come on, you owe me, Merquise. You owe me." 

"Can't you let her know that some other way?" 

Trowa snorted. "What am I supposed to do? Should I go up to her and say _'hey, sure I like you. Why not? Want to go out?'_" He shook his head. "That's not the way I want things to go. I don't want to pursue, Zechs. I want to be _**pursued**_." 

Zechs wiped his mouth and craned his neck to look past Trowa to Noin. "How are you going about that exactly?" 

Trowa's face lit up and he smiled. "Well, right now we're in phase one. I'm doing the pursuing right now, but that's just part of The Plan. I'm just dangling the prize man. _Dangling_. And then I'll be all sly like and pull away and she'll have to chase me." 

Seeing that his friend was not about to be convinced otherwise, Zechs sighed, right foot pointed straight out, left foot behind it and set perpendicular to his body on the floor. "Fine. Fine. But I'm not even going to pretend here. I'm just going to stand there and you do the work. Because I'm not fencing here, THIS, this gross display that I'm about to do is a farce. A complete farce. I'm _so_ disgusted with this that I'm not even going to try to cover this up." 

Trowa smiled. "Whatever you want. As long as she sees that I'm victor, she'll fall right into 'The Plan'." He emphasized, raising his fingers to mark the quotation marks in the air. 

Zechs rolled his eyes, pulling his mask down. "Yeah. I'm sure she'll go grabbing at what you're dangling." He aimed his sword up. "I still say that it would just be easier to get her some DPD points." 

+ + + 

I sucked in my breath. Zechs wasn't very accommodating. Practically the whole class heard that he was purposely going to lose. But hey, what did that matter? I didn't care. And if I didn't care, why should Trowa care? 

_*But then isn't the question, if Trowa cares, shouldn't **I** care? Damn, it's hard to keep track of these things when Zechs's about to get his face kicked in!*_

And they got into positions and Trowa lunged... 

And Zechs just stood there, rolling his eyes probably. 

But why be picky? 

I jumped up. "Yeah! Yeah! Go Trowa! You beat him!" I ran over to them and did a little _'In Your Face, Jerk'_ happy-dance around Zechs. 

Trowa took off his mask and did Zechs' move of leaning on his sword. "Now, **I** AM FENCING GOD." 

_*HA! Getting your own stupidity tossed in your face! Yeah, yeah, go Trowa!*_

Zechs eyes bulged out of his head. "What the fuck? No, I agreed to this much. But you're taking it too far. Come on, Trowa! It's _Noin_ for Christ's sake! My idiot roommate. This moron right here who has some obsession with Heero Yuy!" 

Trowa glanced down at me and I stopped dancing. And laughing. And smiling. Pretty much I stopped breathing, because he didn't look very happy. 

"Trowa?" I reached up to touch him on the shoulder and he just brushed me off and stomped out of the room, throwing his sword and helmet on the ground. 

_*Zechs Merquise-2, Lucrezia Noin-0. Why is it that you always screw me over? Why?*_

I turned to look at Zechs and he just shrugged. He goddamn shrugged. After saying what he just said he freaking shrugged. 

"He'll be over it by lunch. It's no big deal." 

"I hate you. You know that right? You know the poster's going back up, don't you?" I said as we both stood looking at the doorway Trowa had just gone through. 

I contented myself by the fact that Zechs twitched visibly and I took that as a sign from god that I would be rewarded with some extra, highly-needed points that day. 

- - -   


How was that? I know it's taken me a LONG timt to finally get this chapter out and I know it's short, but was it even decent? Please let me know what you think! I'm a rather slow writer/poster due to schoolwork and writer's block, but with encouragement and knowing that people are reading and enjoying my writing makes me want to write more and more often! 

Thanks go out to Crary, who helped me with the difficulty of writing Trowa. And to Corbett, you crazy Communist! For helping me with the fencing portion of this chapter. [I know there are several unfogrivable mistakes roaming around still, but I wanted to post this up as soon as possible!] 

And to my reviewers. Thank you so much! 

Expect Heero, Duo and Dorothy to show up in the next section! For fans of those charactes, I think you'll find the interactions amusing. Especially Duo's relationship with the other charas. *snicker* And anyone have any ideas about what 'THE POSTER' is? ^______^ If you guess correctly, I'll take on a fic commission of your choice. [Sans lemons/limes or anything involving Relena. She's so hard to write well!] 


	4. You've Been Flirting Again

**W A L T Z U P T O M E**

- - -

**you've been flirting again**

- - -

+ + + denote POV change 

- - -

It was lunchtime. I had spent the rest of the day throwing mental daggers at Zechs during the entire morning, but had failed to damage him as I'd wished. 

_ *It's just because he's so damn impenetrable. Like Troy or something. With the walls. Oh, but I will be your Trojan Horse, Merquise. Just watch. When you least expect it...**POW!** I will own you!*_

And so now, before heading out to the lunch room I was fulfilling my oath of vengeance and putting up THE poster. 

I took it out from my side of the closet, carefully taking it out of the protective artist's portfolio I'd put it in at the end of last year. I removed the wax paper I'd placed on top of it lovingly, still admiring the handiwork that I had put into it. Two hours it had taken me to construct. Two hours of painful cutting with an x-acto blade, of matting it with the precision of a dutiful art student. It was bordered in 10 centimeters of black all the way around, making its total dimensions 55x85 centimeters. The picture itself had taken me even longer to get. This masterpiece of subdued genius, of calm stare and perfect half-formed frown had taken two weeks of hounding and pleading. And for one of my first tries at developing film, the outcome has been a crystal-clear image of Heero Yuy, the PERFECT roommate with zero scratches, zero dust and all class. 

Truly, it was a beautiful thing. 

I smiled. Zechs was not going to like this. In fact, he was going to hate it. He had hated it last year when I'd first put it up after he'd lost up nearly 500 DPD points because he'd been caught out of grounds after he had gone missing for two consecutive days. The memory of that incident made the twitch above my eye start up again and I had to inhale deeply before continuing on. God, that was horrible. And because of that idiot it had taken us nearly an entire term before we were able to climb back up to the top rank. I was almost sure that my first year at the Academy would end with my being in second place. 

_*Well, second place isn't so bad, is it? What am I talking about? Of course it is!*_

And with that memory returning for a brief revival, I hung the poster back up. The bold words beneath the picture proclaimed in all caps **"HEERO YUY, _THE_ PERFECT ROOMATE."**

Zechs was going to piss his pants. 

And the fact that he would be angry and thus, most likely not speak to me for the rest of the day, had my hopes rising as I walked to the cafeteria with a smile on my face. 

- - -

The cafeteria was already filled with second and third years when I walked in through the double doors. The first years, being cocky and domineering enough so that they didn't **have** to get in early. And what I mean by that is that they tended to kick people out of seats and harass those who didn't keep their hold tables empty. 

The chefs gave me several dirty looks, indicating that they were not happy that a lowly second year was even attempting to come in late and actually expect to receive any decent food. Tough luck. I grabbed my silver tray of twice-cooked chicken, steaming rigatoni and romaine lettuce salad and walked over to the table Trowa and Zechs were already sitting at. 

I sat across and greeted them. "Hey, Trowa." I smiled. Then I nodded in Zechs' general direction, certain that he would probably get the hint that I was attempting to be polite and yet ignoring him as he was indeed deserving of some heavily needed ignoring. 

Trowa picked up his fork and turned towards Zechs, using it as a pointing device. "So, Zechs, I hear that the Diadem is recruiting you as President." 

_*He's not ignoring me, is he? Wait...Diadem is recruiting who for **what?!***_

Diadem was the nickname for Lake Victoria's honor club, whose members consisted only of the top ten students in each year. Traditionally, only first years were officers. I had been lucky enough and nearly sold my soul to the devil to get the position of Treasurer, while Gai Hausachi, the President of Diadem was practically stalking Zechs to hand over his position to him. Apparently he had the stupid idea that Cotton-For-Brains would suit his high position much better than he does. What kind of drugs are people taking these days!? A second year as Diadem leader? Gah...that's blasphemous enough without tossing in such a pathetic slacker like Zechs in... 

Alright, no worries. Relax. Relax. Let. Go. Of. The. Butterknife. I let out a quiet breath, convinced that Trowa's brushoff was nothing more than his way of showing affection. Surely. Surely that's what it is. 

"Trowa, I like your tie." I smiled sharply, mentally punching myself in the face because that had been the best I could come up with it. He in turn, continued jabbering away to Zechs, who was...ignoring him? What? 

Blue eyes were attempting to catch mine, but as I was resolute in not speaking with him, I looked away suffering his menacing glares. 

"Noin. I asked you a question." 

+ + +

Was she ignoring me? 

"Noin. I asked you a question." 

I glared at her, nudging her leg with my foot. But instead of squawking and wussy kicking me like any good Noin would do, she just scooted further away on the bench. How annoying. 

"I heard that the fencing squad will be competing this weekend against Lake Victoria Africa, is that true _Trowa_?" 

Alright, what a complete bitch. Asking motherfucking Trowa about fencing when the fucking team captain is sitting across from her. Moronic asshole, does she really think that ignoring me will dissuade me from speaking? Hah. I laugh at her pathetic attempts to overwhelm me with psychological warfare. 

"So Zechs, Colonel Khushrenada is back on campus. Will you be meeting with him again?" 

Don't you get that I don't want to talk to you, stupid hormone-pumped idiot? Have you been fucking flirting again? Is that why you're so off? She said something stupid, didn't she? I knew it! You've been flirting again! And it's blown up in your face! 

+ + +

Why is he ignoring me? 

There is NO reason why he should be ignoring me. 

If anything, Noin should be the one apologizing to me instead of ignoring Zechs. Like that's going to help put 'The Plan' back on schedule. God, two-timing whore. Heero Yuy, huh? 

"So Zechs, Colonel Khushrenada is back on campus. Wil you be meeeting with him again?" 

+ + +

This was ridiculous. The three of us. Trowa ignoring me--- 

_*And what the hell for? Like I actually_ did _anything? Argh.*_

---Zechs ignoring Trowa, me ignoring Zechs... 

Wait, no. Not me ignoring Zechs. I have good reasons, dammit! 

"Fuck..." I muttered under my breath, shoving away my tray in disgust at the whole thing. This was so stupid. Part of my brain stood to attention as Zechs continued to glower at me, most likely placing a hex on me, as Trowa kept his head turned so that I could only see his profile. And that part of my brain was screaming at me, saying things like; _'How did you ever sucked into this, Noin? Crushing over a boy moody as hell who's best-friends with your freaking **NEMESIS!** Snap out of it dumbass, go molest Dem Paquin or something!_

What the hell? I must be worst off than I had thought. Dem Paquin? Dem _**PAQUIN?!**_ God, I rather _**KILL**_ myself than have another thought like that about that moron. That walking, towering, pompous, ass--- 

---_'Nice piece of ass.'_ My stupid brain smirked. 

_*'Nice piece of ass?' Alright, time to stop sniffing floor cleaner, Noin.*_

I placed head on the table, risking the contraction of germs and who knows what else, and folded my arms over it. When did my life begin to suck so much that part of me had actually fallen to such a low level as to become a fan of Dem Paquin's non-existent charms? That guy, that aggravating... 

"Noin. Man, does it do my heart good to find you. Listen, I need you tonight." 

Duo Maxwell. The sound of his always jarring voice snapped me out of my little slump and I sat back up, fixing my gaze onto him. His long braid was coming out again, the black ribbon he used to tie it off lost once again. 

_*He was probably groped in the halls again. Those stupid Joshua Club kids are so freaking repressed or something.*_

He actually looked relieved to see me for once, eyes wide with questioning and since I was too busy focusing on why the hell his hair wasn't flying everywhere since he'd lost the hairtie, I didn't notice when he placed a warm hand on my thigh, the other busy gently shaking my shoulder. 

"Noin, what the hell? Are you even listening to me? Am I really that gorgeous that my stunning and obviously stupefying beauty has momentarily stunned you?" He smirked and since I had finally managed to focus on what he was saying rather than his physics defying hair, I blushed and had to have him repeat everything he'd just said. 

_*If you weren't so pretty, you wouldn't be so arrogant. Man, if **I** were that pretty I'd probably he shouting it from the rooftops...wait, what the hell am I talking about? Why would I do that? Might break an arm or something...*_

He rolled his eyes, using the hand he'd been shaking me with to push back his bangs. "I wanted to know if you were available tonight. Y'know, I need practice. And you do to. Don't lie, Noin. You're so fucking stressed, lately. And your little Duo-inspired comatose state proves that you've deprived of my presence. I don't want you getting another partner or anything just because I haven't asked you to do this for two weeks." 

I nodded. "Yeah, I'm free today. But only for an hour. I'm totally loaded down with work." I sighed. "And I have to study for the military battles test we have tomorrow." 

He smiled. "When we're finished you won't even be thinking about all of that shit. Just you wait." He stood back up, winking at me. "We'll do it in my room. I told Wufei that I needed to _'study'_ so he's agreed to stay out of the room until curfew." He turned to leave, but immediately turned back. "I almost forgot to ask. You want to do this on the bed or on the floor?" 

+ + +

Trowa's eyes widened to the size of dinner plates as he gave up his guise of ignoring Noin to stare at her and Duo in horror. 

They couldn't--- 

Duo--- 

Noin--- 

Duo plus Noin? No. NO. What the---? 

He turned back briefly to Zechs, punching him swiftly in the stomach. 

"**And don't you think it would have been a good fucking idea to let me know _this_ was going on?!**" He seethed, standing up to leave. He refrained from looking at Noin, but snarled at Duo before stomping off. 

"Idiot Maxwell," he muttered. Now he'd have to go and rearrange everything in his damned planner because of his meddling! 'The Plan' would probably be off by months at the rate this was going! Goddammit! 

+ + +

Zechs barely registered the sharp pain of Trowa's blow before the other boy was already walking away. 

He couldn't believe it. Duo and Noin practically talking about...he shook his head. And then Trowa completely ignoring her until someone else comes along who could potentially court her.

Fucking hell. Was everyone at this fucking academy crazy? 

- - -

Yes, I know this wasn't 1/2 as good as the last two chapters. Yes, I know that I didn't properly conclude this chapter. Yes, you have no idea who the hell Dem Paquin is...but you will. I LOVE that boy. And yes, I didn't manage to squeeze Dorothy or Heero in as promised, but I just wanted to get this chapter out already! SO please forgive any grammar/spelling/continuity mistakes as well. 

Chloe Peacecraft: you have NO IDEA how much your review encouraged me and made me think better of this fic [as it wasn't one of my favorites at first]. Thank you so much! ^_~ And even though your guess was wrong, I'm offering you a commission for a one-shot. If you want it, just tell me what pairing, what genre and I'll try. ^_^ 

Lady Deathstrike: you took a stab at guessing as well, so the same goes for you commission wise. 

Terra_khushrenada: your comment about the essay amused me, although I doubt Zechs, being the pompous asshole he is in this fic, would even bother writing anything. And Treize...well he'll show up later on. 

Thank you to all of my reviewers and people reading this fic. I hope the huge gaps between chapters aren't driving people away. I know I'm freakishly inconsistent when it comes to posting. I apologize for that and will try to be better about it, although writer's block is a daunting curse. 

Enormous thanks to Crary who helped me out with this chapter and who suggested Duo's attitude as well as bribed me with ten pages of her own infinitely better and much more sophisticated writing. You're the best m.l.m.n. anyone could ever ask for. ^_^ 


	5. Scheme: Lower My Coolness Factor

****

**WALTZ UP TO ME**

- - -

**lower my coolness factor**

- - -

**_scheme_**_: 3 a visionary or impractical project; cabal, conspiracy_

- - -

**A/N:** This is the first of many i.'schemes'. These are little side-stories of things that **could** happen in the **_Waltz_** universe but do not fit in or have anything to do with the actual storyline. Think of them as omakes, I suppose. They have no other purpose other than to amuse. Let me know if including these is a bad idea and I'll ponder on whether or not to continue them.

To know the basis of this scheme, see the footnote at the end.

- - -

Change from Noin's POV to 3rd person

- - -

The commander had returned.

The semester had shifted and Strategy & Intelligence was in the afternoons, after lunch. He would be in class today. Probably to glare and question everyone on their progress.

_Progress? Oh, you mean that thing of which I have NONE?! Stupid Zechs, hogging my computer time, refusing to leave me alone for a damn minute. I don't want to be yelled at by Treize Khushrenada!_

Being nervous suited me just fine as I walked alone around the pavilion, half-ran down the sidewalks, sprinting stupidly whenever I passed by the shadow of a tree.

_Alright Noin, no worries. You won't be reprimanded. There is no way that you can fall anything lower than fifth in rank. Even if you get stomped upon by the Commander. Just because you don't even have anything written down yet doesn't mean anything. It's in your head._ **In your head.** _And you've been thinking about elegance and poise and---_

There he was.

His back was resting against the dampened bark of a Maidenhair tree whose leaves has already gone to a vibrant yellow. He had one leg completely stretched out, his right bent at the knee, an arm resting atop it. I slowed my pace, managing to stay away from his side of the sidewalk when I realized that I was running out sun coated sidewalk space. It was either sprint across the shadows in the presence of the man I'd been dreading or manage to sneak my way across without him noticing me. Darn. Either way was going to cause me to lower my coolness factor. Double darn. And what if while sprinting he noticed me and called me out? Triple darn.

I took a breath and slipped behind one of the silver dogwoods to assess the battle ground. I drew up a mental map of my surroundings and concentrated on figuring out escape routes.

_Alright, Khushrenada is currently in the southwestern portion of sector one. If I run towards the Pagoda tree in textile four, run across the shaded region into the second sector, proceed eastward until sector three and into the shade of the sixth sector, I think I can make it without him seeing me and without stepping into the sun...Hmm._

Now if she could tell if he were looking in the opposite direction she was currently in.

_Come on, come on. Turn. Turn. Yes!_

She ran for the Pagoda tree, dashed north, stopped, took a breath, crossed herself, preparing to make her second move towards the shade directly in front of Treize. She took some precautionary glances behind her and to the sides and then took off. She'd barely made a move from behind the Pagoda when a semi-amused voice called out to her demandingly, "Cadet Noin, what may I inquire as to what sort of questionable behavior you are currently involved in?"

_Ah, fuck. Stupid critical situation analysis, you have failed me again._

Forcing her shoulders to straighten out, she smoother nervous hands across the front of her uniform. No need to panic. There is no need to panic. Just because it's Treize Khushrenada and he looks pissed. Alright. No. Need. To. PANIC.

As she approached him, Treize's demeanor lost the traces of relaxation and amusement he had so clearly been exhibiting only moments before. Noin's long hair had lost its hairtie again as nearly waist-length mass was busy floating around her shoulders, stray strands flitting annoyingly across her forehead. Her boots, which were usually perfectly polished were scuffed now, the third button of her left sleeve cuff missing.

Her right hand came up to a rigid salute as she addressed him. "Good afternoon, Lieutenant General Treize, sir. Cadet Noin, number---"

His lips pressed into a firm line as he waved aside her convoluted introduction. "There exists no need for the long winded introduction. I am well aware of your identity, Cadet. Now tell me, what exactly were you attempting to do just now?"

_Shit. Fuck. Damn. Darn. What? What, what? Do I...what do I say?!_

"Well, you see, sir. I was...uh, conducting a practice critical combat situation analysis...in which, the enemy was...sunlight. Yeah. And then so I started by drawing a mental map, which then I split into six regions and then there was some sun, which I didn't go in, but then I fell behind the troop and I could have died, except there was a metaphoric, mathematical, philosophically imposing rule that had previously been established where, No Child Left Behind, sir!"

He glared hard at her then, a unnerving couple of seconds where she contemplated several ways to avoid having to answer more questions such as fainting, consciously willing herself to mentally break a bone or lapse into some sort of three hour coma.

Apparently, she had no sort of luck or will power since right before she was positively certain her arm was about to pop out of its socket he opened his mouth.

"You are a dreadful prevaricator, Cadet."

"Excuse me, sir?"

He shook his head, face finally looking away from her. Relegated to staring at his profile while he remained silent, she shifted uncomfortably.

"You will be straightforward with me, understood, Cadet?"

She nodded quickly, swallowing the growing feeling of fear at the back of her throat.

_Ah shit. Shit, shit, shit. Here comes the 30-hour sleep deprivation. Oh, man. I knew I should've stayed in the dorm and kicked Zechs out._

He spoke without turning back to her. "Why were you avoiding me?"

_Are you kidding me? What am I supposed to say? Alright, he didn't say anything about white lies. Those aren't really lies. They're good lies. White. White equals good. Crap, crap. I sound like a Ku Klux Klan member or something. Crap. Think, Noin. THINK._

"Alright, sir." She took a small breath. "I was not particularly avoiding you, it's just that I have this _thing_ about not going in the sun before two in the afternoon. Since it is currently before that time, I was attempting to avoid the sun, not your detection, Your Excellency."

He glared at her again. "'Your Excellency'?"

She tried for a small smile and failed while her mental self punched holes into her brain. She dropped her gaze, trying to concentrate on something other than his face. His shoulder? No, too far off center. His hair? Too high. Ah, his collarbone? Wait. Collarbone?

She couldn't believe what she was seeing. Treize Khushrenada. Not only was he currently resting his highly valued self against dirt and fallen leaves, but the top buttons of his formal uniform were undone, a large expanse of skin peeking through the opening.

_That's...that's not right. Why...doesn't he...redo them?_

Noin the Perfectionist's fingers itched. She wanted to bring her hands forward, wanted to unclasp them and deftly slip the buttons back into their cloth holes. Buttons were made to be buttons. That's what they were there for. For buttoning. Hence the name; buttons. What was going on?

_First the stupid trees are screwing me over, then General Treize's sudden appearance...what's next? Zechs and Trowa resuming with the mooning?_ Her left eyebrow twitched with the thought.

But the buttons...

Dammit. This was bad. Very, very bad. I mean, I know I'm stupid, but I'm not usually this idiotic. My hands wanted to button those buttons. Sounds pretty stupid, right? Better get out of here fast, Noin.

But he was just sitting there. Without dismissing me. Maybe I should speak up and ask him if I can leave.

He was smiling to himself. A very slight upturn of his lips and maybe that meant I had amused him just enough to allow some leniency for my retardation? Please dear god.

And suddenly as I was standing there, readying myself to ask for permission to leave my hands forced my body down and there they were, fingertips extended, both poised to button up the offensive open throat.

_WHAT THE FUCK! AH! You stupid bastards! Shit, shit! What about self control, goddammit! Mother of GOD! I AM SO DEAD!_

The second I managed to prod my peanut brain into obeying and I began to pull back, his hands were suddenly grasping my wrists and I could see the swell of his full lips as he sneered.

"Can you not stand the lack of decorum of my disturbed uniform or is it that the look of my skin offends you, Cadet Noin?"

She stared open mouthed at him. Unable to say anything that didn't come out in a stutter.

"W---we---wel---well, a-actually, I was, um...and then...so...Ah, shit."

Her hair fell forward, flooding over his hands and brushing softly against the exposed skin of his throat. "Tell me, Cadet. Use your situation analysis skills and devise a reasoning for why I disturb you so. Answer correctly and I will release you."

She answered without thinking properly. "I like you."

_**FUCK!**_

He smiled and promptly released her. "A fair answer."

And I fell on my ass.

Did I just tell Treize Khushrenada that I liked him? Did I just...Shit. Shit. Shit. This is **_so_** worse that the time I replaced Zechs' socks with flower print pantyhose.

The end of lunch bell rang and I was saved from having to stay there any longer.

"Return to your classes, Cadet," he said tiredly. "I will not be in class today."

"But I thought you were going to be there, Sir," I sputtered idiotically.

He had reverted to staring into the distance again. "It would be pointless. I am leaving Lake Victoria this evening. Regardless, send my regards to Cadet Merquise."

I scoffed and rolled my eyes. "Yes, Sir." And turned to make a run for my next class.

"Cadet."

I paused. "Yes, General?"

"You are very gullible. I suggest you take Captain Katigiri's Language Manipulation course."

_Man, I knew it. There just **had** to be some sort of ruse. Argh. Why am I a moron? Why? And why did it have to be my hero, Treize Khushrenada? Sigh._

I answered in the affirmative and ran.

Wow. What a fucking day.

I lost my comp time, failed to sneak away from the Commander and got completely one-upped by another man.

Definitely a triple darn.

- - -

- - -

- - -

Reason for this? I like the 9x13/913/13x9/139 pairing. And if I didn't have other plans for Noin and Treize, I would have considered pairing them up.

- - -

I would like to apologize PROFUSELY! I know it's been a rather long while since I've posted anything and I do appreciate all of you who've commented and encouraged me to write. School's unbelievably tough this year and I barely have free time. And then there's my whole writer's block thing...

TerraKhushrenada: I wrote this little AU side-story with you in mind, sort of. Maybe it's just that you reminded me of how cool I wanted Waltz!Treize to be...

Mai: Trust me when I say that I had definitely not intended for THIS much profanity in **_Waltz_**. Although I myself possess a dirty mouth and write with the use of foul language aplenty, I didn't want that to be an aspect of this Noin's personality...but it just sort of happened. I think it's because she's becoming even more stressed and...well, I think you'll get the point once I manage to move ahead in the story. Anyway...

Once again, for Crary, who loves this fic and myself.

And expect the actual FIFTH chapter to be posted either by the end of September or early October. And excuse any errors in this chapter as I was in a hurry to post it up and didn't properly edit. --; Oh, and the stupidity level is once again high. Sorry. This isn't amazingly good, but amusing.

----

Does anybody know why the hell doesn't allow asterisks, spacing and brackets? I was two aggravated moments away from not posting this up because they ruined my formatting.


End file.
